Crescent Moon
by Shangri-La
Summary: What happens when Ron's son gets stuck with the Starwind family? Or when Gene's daughter meets Harry...and responds to him in the way her mother never did? Poor Harry knows it's what he wants, but also something he can never have... Chappy 2 up!
1. Meet Angelo

Disclaimer: I do not own...uh...oh yeah, I don't own Outlaw Star  
  
Ok, first let me start by saying I really like Harry. I mean, REALLY like him. So, I was thinking, you know, there's gotta be some way to make stupid Melfina pay for breaking his heart (literally). And ta-daa, I come up with this. Rest assured, I will not abandon this story!!! I will finish!! *breathes heavily* Anywho, I'm always open to ideas!! Enjoy!  
  
~~~~~  
  
Violet eyes peer into another world, see a smiling face. "Brother..." But he's gone now, no longer in existence. As a pale hand swipes aqua hair from a young, fine-featured face, the mind of a sharp, troubled, young man peers back into the past even as it works at untangling a complex system. It's here. It's all here... Oh, Angelo, if only I could've saved you, he thinks. You were my brother's son... And he pushes deeper into the computer system, until he feels like he's up to his elbows in it, pulling up the files that he desires.  
  
Angelo is moving, running, his heart beat is accelerated. The young space pirate is panicked, and his uncle wishes for nothing more than to reach him and somehow save the boy, but he has already been detected and should leave. Regretfully, he withdraws and flees.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The shards of glass explode against his shoulder as it forces them outward, the rest of his body hurling out the third-story window. He free falls, feeling the cold night air against his face and the wind stinging his golden eyes, bringing tears to the forever dry orbs. There is water below, he sees at a fleeting glimpse, and it is swirling, frothing, tumbling, and most likely merciless. This becomes even more apparent when he collides with the river, gasping at its tendency to be rock hard at first and then envelop him in a rush of icy movement.  
  
Thrown first to the side, against a sharply angled rock, he gasps beneath the surface, chokes on the water, and is banged against yet another granite wall, this time to the right. Swept along in the current for much too long before resurfacing, he gulps down deep, greedy mouthfuls of air and weakly treads to the rocky shore. The ride has not been easy on his worn body, and the skin has broken in too many places to count, it seems, leaving him a limp, bloodied mess. Helpless. However, there is a tent nearby, he notices, right before collapsing and finding that he could not even walk to save his life, which is the sort of situation he has been placed in. He drags himself pitifully along instead, crawling on his hands and knees, vision swimming and voice hoarsely calling out, "Is...anybody...out there...?" There is no reply and desperation swells in his pounding heart. "Please...I need..." Fingers tremble, lifting from the grainy sand to reach out for some sort contact. Will any come? "Help..."  
  
He sees a blonde man exiting through the tent flap followed by a girl his age, her hair a flaming red. Through his blurry sight, he cannot tell much more than their height, body shape, and hair color, and can't even begin to define their faces or expressions. Squinting, he listens intently as the man says something, approaching him in a heavy, shocked run. He then passes out.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Can you pass the rice, Melly?"  
  
"Oh. Sure." The dark-haired, faintly Italian woman grins brightly at her husband's brother, picking up the large bowl of fried rice and handing it over to him with little delay. Her brown eyes are alight with life, raven curls spiraling down far past her shoulder. A white dress lays just so over her slender frame, breezy and accented with dark purple flowers. As his fingers lay over hers to accept the food, he feels the pressure of her wedding ring and smiles sadly, thinking back to the woman who never returned his feelings. At least his brother is happy.  
  
"Why, Angelo, what's wrong?" Melly is looking to her son now, shock on her narrow features, full, pouty lips set in a frown. "You're crying..."  
  
The eighteen year old raises a hand to brush droplets of salty crystals from his tan cheeks, gazing round at his family in wonderment. "It just seems like..."  
  
"Like what?" His father, dark, tightly curled hair cut short and clean, long, lean face serious yet jesting, sits beside his mother, deftly filling up his plate. Briefly, his glowing hazel eyes meet his son's, concerned and caring.  
  
"Like we haven't been together like this for so long," he finishes falteringly, gazing slowly around the table.  
  
His father beams, first at him, then his mother, and finally, his uncle. "Family dinners are nice," he amends.  
  
"Yeah..." Angelo frowns and turns his attention to the empty chair next to him, listening to the sounds of forks and plates clinking, voices whispering, food thoughtfully being chewed, growing fainter and fainter by the moment. The scenery, homey and warm, fades away into darkness, and when he looks to where the table and family had been before, they are gone, melted into the past. He's alone again, but it's not very surprising.  
  
After all, it was just a dream.  
  
~~~~~  
  
When he comes to, he is lying in a tangle of sheets, blood hot and heavy flowing freely from his left leg. His eyes glance over to see that his clothes are hung up to dry on the walls, that he is still wearing a pair of boxer shorts, which accounts for being somewhat clothed. That's good.  
  
"Hey, Jim, he's awake now..." The voice is apprehensive, filled with fear. This woman fears him? That's good. That's normal. People feared his father, and they will fear him too, for he is following as closely in that man's footsteps as he possibly can. It doesn't matter what his mother wants, nor what his uncle says, all that he wants is to drive forward into the future as the man who sired him cannot.  
  
The blonde man is leaning over him now, peering down at him with avid curiosity. He seems to be in his late thirties, face round and somehow still boyish despite his age and the thin stubble that gave for an overworked quality to his appearance. Blue eyes deep as the ocean blink compassionately. "Hey, are you ok?"  
  
"Do I LOOK ok?!"  
  
The man is taken back by the deep growl that springs from the boy in his late teens. "Uh...I guess not. My name is Jim Hawking. This is Mikazuki." He gestures to the girl kneeling beside him, her petite frame and pretty face, framed by long, layered, deep auburn hair, veiling the hidden strength he can sense behind those baby blue eyes. "We found you collapsed on the river bank. Your leg is banged up pretty bad, but not broken, and you should be able to be up and around tomorrow. Well, you'll have a limp, but you'll be about to walk. So, what's your name?"  
  
Angelo cocks an eyebrow, frowning dryly. This man is obviously very factual. "Angelo."  
  
"Nice to meet you. If you don't mind my asking, what exactly happened to you?"  
  
"I'm not quite sure." Angelo is tough, but he's NOT stupid. At this point, his injury makes it impossible for him to do anything in means of protecting himself, so it would be better to feign being helpless and innocent at this point. "I can barely remember...it's such a blur. Someone attacked me..." He shifts uncomfortably in the blankets, smiling the sappiest sort of smile he can conjure. "Thank you for...for helping me." He cringes. Did that ever sound stupid.  
  
"You're welcome," Jim murmurs, shocked at such kindness after the rude awakening. "Do you remember anything about what happened? Who attacked you? Why?"  
  
Instead of replying, Angelo rolls over onto his side and mutters a lame excuse about being tired. "I'd like to be alone now," he informs the pair in a sickeningly sweet voice, fully expecting for his wishes to be fulfilled. As usual, they are. Jim and Mikazuki can be heard rising and rustling the blankets as they leave.  
  
And once again, Angelo is alone.  
  
~~~~~  
  
"Ge~ne! We're ho~me! Come on, you lazy bum, get off your butt for once!"  
  
Angelo has observed this man named 'Jim' to be a fairly stressed, compulsive individual, but on the ride home and upon entering the warehouse Jim claims to live in, he sees that from the way he talks about this 'Gene', and calls out his name, most of the tension must radiate from him. Whoever 'Gene' is, Angelo ponders, I'm not quite sure I wanna meet him.  
  
Jim throws the bag he has been carrying upon a couch in the middle of the large floor, lifting his gaze to the second floor, which is really more of a loft. Again, he helplessly bawls out his partner's name, while Mikazuki, who has informed Angelo softly that she is Gene's daughter, follows his example and drops her things. Despite the outside appearance of the building, it's more of a home than just a place to store things. There is furniture, pictures, rugs...  
  
"So, Jim, how was the camping trip?"  
  
Hmm...that must be Gene. He's (from what Angelo can see) a lanky, broad- shouldered, swaggering, freeloader who grins a leering sort of smile at the younger man while leaning tan, badly scarred arms upon the railing. About in his late thirties, or his early forties, his hair is a candy apple red, not the flame-colored that Mikazuki's is, but close. Same blue eyes though.  
  
"It was relaxing, ok? Now, PLEASE tell me that you delivered that shipment of ammo you were supposed to."  
  
"Don't worry 'bout it, Jim. You're always worrying." He turns to start down the stairs at a lazy pace, reminding Angelo of something like a cat. Perhaps even a tiger - he looks enough like one with that deep tan and all those scars striping over his body. And then he tilts back his head to yawn, giving the small group assembled a clear shot of his white teeth, letting them see as far back as his molars. Hmph. Lazy bum.  
  
"GENE!" Jim balls his hands into fists and sets them on his hips, scowling murderously. "We NEED that money! I knew I shouldn't have gone away!"  
  
Gene is provoked to frown now, left eyebrow twitching to warn of his quick temper. "Hey, Melfina," he yells over his shoulder, "did I deliver all the shipments Jim left for me?"  
  
"Umm...yes, I think so!" replies a woman's cheerful voice from within the recesses of the building. A few seconds later, she appears, looking no older than eighteen, smiling and calling that she'll be right down.  
  
All this time, Angelo stands to the side, growing very agitated that everyone has yet to notice and introduce him. In annoyance, he pulls his shoulder-length hair from the ponytail he had had it in and shakes out his hair, growling at its tendency to frizz. Then, smoothing his hands over the jet-black strands, he gathers them up again and twists the band around them, setting back to his original low ponytail. Sharply, narrow, hazel eyes glint, promising that if someone does not take notice of his presence soon, there will be an unfortunate event to make them.  
  
"Mikazuki! I'm glad you're home!" Melfina warmly embraces Mikazuki, her long, silky, black hair mixing and spilling with the fiery red of the other girl's. Brown eyes glitter. "How was your trip? Oh...I wish I could've gone."  
  
"It was good, mom. I missed you too."  
  
The sound of shattering glass breaks the serenity of the moment and all eyes turn towards Angelo, who has bowed his head to stare at a broken porcelain vase at his feet in no surprise. Openly, he stares at it, moves a larger piece with his toe, and then, seeing everyone's attention is caught, he looks up and blankly returns their gazes.  
  
"That," says Gene in intense aggravation, "was expensive."  
  
"Dad, meet Angelo," Mikazuki intervenes, sensing her father's oncoming wrath. From what Angelo can tell, Mikazuki is strong-willed, but also very peaceful. "We found him, injured, on the riverbank ."  
  
"...and you brought him home?"  
  
"Yes." She looks earnestly into Gene's eyes. "Can he stay? I mean, at least until he gets better?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
She shrugs emotionlessly.  
  
Angelo clears his throat to grasp at everyone's concentration. "If you let me use the phone, I can be out of your hair in no time. Eh...sorry for all the trouble."  
  
This sounds like a good idea to Gene. After all, Angelo looks to be a handsome, young man, just a little younger than his daughter, and he seems stony and silent and strong - just the type Mikazuki adores. Besides, with that tightly curled, gleaming, black hair, blazing golden-amber eyes, and long, tanned face, he reminds Gene of someone.  
  
An escaped wisp of curving, raven hair tickles against the sharp cut of Angelo's high cheekbone, and he flicks it aside with the back of his hand. These people must be slow or something. It takes them eons to make a decision.  
  
"The phone is just down the hall," Melfina finally informs him, pointing the way. There is an anxiousness that her expression betrays. Ah, she's worried about her daughter. Well, Mikazuki is rather attractive, but Angelo won't be around long enough to try anything. His superiors will swing by for him soon enough.  
  
Well, maybe not. His call is not a success. No one even answers. He pretends to put through another call and listens halfheartedly to the empty bickering about him of the Starwind family. He assumes their name is Starwind because it is painted on the mailbox outside.  
  
What now? Angelo sighs at the sound of someone rapidly pounding on the door, almost desperate. Mikazuki bounds over and throws it open, not exactly with excitement, but she doesn't drag her feet either.  
  
A wiry man stands before the young girl, his teal, wavy hair cut shoulder- length and tied back at the nape of his neck with a black scarf. His violet eyes widen every so slightly at the sight of the young woman, and although he looks to be no more than twenty or so, there is a sort of wisdom in them that comes only with age. "H-hello..."  
  
Mikazuki faintly murmurs the reply and lets her eyes roam the delicate features of his face, seeing how harmonious they are, how delicate and handsome. She continues to stare with unabashed admiration until her father barks out an angry, "YOU?!" That causes her to jolt and whirl around in surprise.  
  
"I - I just came for Angelo. I tracked him here." He ducks his head shyly. "He is here...right?"  
  
"He's here." Gene cocks his head slowly to the side, casually holding his gun (when and where he had whipped it out from, one could not be sure) at arm's length. "What do you want with him? You the one who beat him up? Are you into kidnapping now? Oh, wait, that runs in your family."  
  
The young man flinches visibly. "I am not even going to get into it with you, Gene Starwind. It's been too long, and I've been too - "  
  
He stops, as does everything else when Angelo's presence is sensed, the tall, broad-shouldered man walking softly into the room, narrow eyes enlarged. Confused, he searches for words, staring intently at the man in the doorway. Just about everyone's heart stopped beating at the words he uttered next. "Uncle Harry?"  
  
~~~~~  
  
Ok, I know, lots of people complain about this. Melfina is an android - she can't have kids. Mikazuki is not their daughter by birth. Happy now? Well, where she came from, you'll just have to wait and see. So...what'd you think? Review and tell me! 


	2. Not a Fairy Tale

I'm back!  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Uncle Harry," repeats Gene in barely a murmur, now lowering his gun and not even noticing due to his shock. "That would mean that you are...Ron's kid?"  
  
"Yes." Angelo nods, obviously not ashamed. In fact, he seems a little proud, as if he is expecting them all to fall to their knees and worship him. A funny little half-smirk curls his lips.  
  
Mikazuki finally realizes that she has been gawking like a moron at the teal-haired man and backs away, eyes alight with something that resembles amazement. "Harry Mcdougal? You're too young... You look my age!"  
  
"I really don't age too much," mumbles Harry, again looking down at his shoes. "When I died at the Leyline...and they got me into my new body...the thing is I just don't die unless my body is completely destroyed."  
  
Melfina is about ready to faint from the looks of it, so Jim takes her by the arm and leads her to the couch, where she can sit down, eyes still very wide. She, herself, hasn't appeared to grown very old, although she is more human than the young man. Sometimes, she wonders if she will die like Gene will, or if her life span will be unnatural. It's hard to tell... Maybe the people who designed her did not intend for her to die at all. If she did, after all, the ship would be without a navigator, and that'd be too much of an inconvenience. It all makes her head spin.  
  
Angelo hobbles over to the couch and takes a seat beside her, boldly asking, "So, judging from everything that is going on, I have encountered the infamous Gene Starwind. And Melfina." He looks meaningfully at his uncle, recalling the many dinnertime discussions the name filled when he was a child. The way his father would slam down dishes and bowls and yell bad things about the woman. How Harry would bow his head in shame. His mother only watched sadly, weakly trying to intervene every now and then. He shakes his head to clear away the unpleasant memories. "Ah. Well. How did you find me, Uncle Harry?"  
  
"I hacked into the space pirates data base. The tracking device they slipped under the skin of your hand is fairly simple to follow."  
  
"He's a space pirate? How ironic..." Gene scowls, preparing to usher them out of his house - or better yet, shoot them.  
  
Something happened to prevent him from doing other though.  
  
Angelo lost it.  
  
"I can't believe you would do THAT!" he yells, wiping an angry hand before him, face twisted in hatred. "You have no say in what you do! I'm a grown man! If I want to be a space pirate, then I WILL be a space pirate! AUGH!" The last part of his little outburst is a strangled scream as his hands flew to his hair, yanking on it in irritation.  
  
"Angelo, you're father -"  
  
"My father is DEAD! And you have no say in what I do! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Standing firm, red-faced and trembling with wrath, he glared at his uncle. "Just leave..."  
  
Harry sighs helplessly, not knowing what to do. The situation was pretty strange. They were, after all, in Melfina's house, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye, looking very pale and shocked.  
  
"Both of you - out - now!" This comes from Gene, who has raised his castor once again. There is a dangerous glint in his eye. "I don't care if you resolve this family problem or not, but I swear, if you don't leave, I'll shoot you both on the spot! And Angelo...watch your back. You don't have a bounty on your head yet, but when you do..."  
  
"I know. You'll be there. This is a dump anyway," sniffs Angelo, limping out past Harry with his nose in the air in a show of disdain. Mouth gaping but no words leaving, Harry spins on his heel and hurries after, still trying to reason with the hot-headed young man.  
  
Melfina turns to speak to her daughter, but Mikazuki had promptly disappeared during the argument and is nowhere to be found.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry settles back against a tree in the field, his back curving comfortable to the trunk, and watches as Angelo disappears into the distance. His nephew was right, after all. He was a grown man. There was no way he could stop him.  
  
The tall grasses to his left rustle softly and then that girl, Mikazuki, appears, looking slightly cautious and just a little shy. "So, you're the Harry Macdougal I've heard so much about," she says softly, giving her wild, auburn hair a shake to move it from her eyes. "I never pictured you like this."  
  
"Yeah," is all he says, his voice even lower than hers, which had been little more than a whisper. He looks down, gripping handfuls of delicate, green shoots and tearing them from their rooted place in the dirt, tossing them aside. Just like he had been. Uprooted and thrown cruelly aside.  
  
Still gazing at him intently, eyes burning into his existence like a flame of fire, she moves gracefully towards him and takes her seat, pulling her knees up to her chest. It's almost fun looking at him, she thinks. There must not be another person in the whole entire world that even comes close to matching his appearance. And he's handsome to boot.  
  
"I bet they're all bad things," he finally says, still picking at the grass. One of his legs is stretched out before him and the other is bent slightly, one of his arms slung over it. His clothes consist of worn, blue jeans with an unintentional rip in the knee and a loose, black turtleneck, despite the warm weather. "The things they told you, I mean."  
  
"It really differs. My mother speaks well of you, and my father does not."  
  
"Oh." No matter what, he refuses to look Gene and Melfina's child in the eye. Too painful.  
  
"You know...you really don't look older than me."  
  
"I'm not really like you...or anyone...or even what I used to be. When I was killed in the Leyline, my brother was able to find a new body for what was left of me. Basically, the copy of myself I had downloaded into the ship's computer."  
  
"Where's your brother now?"  
  
"He...died. A long time ago."  
  
"I'm sorry." She falls silent, and again looks at him. She's not usually like this. Not usually so interested in other people. "That's Angelo's father, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They sit in uncomfortable silence some more, feeling the soft, spring breeze, listening to the dry, scratchy sounds of the tall stalks of grass in the field nearby rubbing together in the wind. Harry's green hair conceals his face, until a soft breath of air lifts it and reveals the creamy, pale skin and violet eyes to Mikazuki's view.  
  
"You'd better leave," he comments now, his delicately shaped lips barely moving. "You're father would be upset with you even talking to me."  
  
Suddenly, Mikazuki's attitude does a one-eighty degree turn and she sniffs, venomously spitting out, "I don't care. I hate him anyway."  
  
Despite himself, Harry smirks, eyes narrowing in humor at the irony. "Why?" he muses aloud, not even tearing his gaze away from the grasshopper he is avidly watching.  
  
"Because he's not my real father. He's my uncle. And besides, he's rude and crude and obnoxious and lazy and he's always teasing Jim mercilessly and not considering my mom - I mean, Melfina's - feelings, and - " She was ticking off all the reasons on her fingers now. "And he bosses me around and never listens and he has these horrible temper tantrums and the first boy I ever liked, he made me bring him home and then got drunk and scared him half to death with his singing and stories of his life, and then I had to switch schools! Plus, he's always breaking things and moving our family all the time to take off on some ridiculous adventure!" She had run out of fingers now, her breath escaping her in a dramatic sigh. "I think that my mom really regrets marrying him sometimes..."  
  
That gets Harry's attention. His head snaps up, but not towards her, and he gazes up at the sky with clear, curious eyes. "I think we all have regrets, but what Melfina's are...I suppose they are none of my concern."  
  
The grasshopper he had been observing springs away.  
  
Mikazuki edges slightly closer. "Have...have you ever loved anyone else?" she asks quietly, full well knowing about the obsession, the pleading, the near-stalking in the past. Gene had called it sick and perverted while Melfina simply blushed. Now that she saw him, Mikazuki thought she wouldn't mind being pursued in such a way by this young man.  
  
"No. I haven't. I just really don't trust myself very much anymore. I'm not a good judge of character. And I just recently gained control over my emotions and my temper."  
  
She is very close to him now, heart beating wildly, and she tries to keep herself subtle and calm. It is then that she catches herself thinking thoughts such as, "He looks like he'd be gentle...soft...encouraging... I wonder what it's like to wake up in the morning and see him sleeping peacefully beside you...?" As soon as she realizes the caliber of these daydreams, she blushes, which she quickly fights down. Her face has a tendency to redden so that it nearly matches her hair when she is embarrassed, not just prettily tinge pink at the cheeks like other girls. How she hates to blush.  
  
Her thoughts, one must realize, are purely innocent. She is not a flirt, nor what one would call 'easy', and she has never been kissed in her life. The aforementioned boyfriend, which Gene promptly scared away, was a polite, kind fifteen-year-old who took her to homecoming and shook her hand at the end of it. Despite the thoughts coursing through her head, she dreams of a chaste relationship of hopeless perfection and honesty that ends in a simple wedding and two kids, preferably girls. Sharing all of the above is pretty far-fetched with Harry, but she just liked him, right off the bat. He was kind, and honest, and peaceful, and thoughtful, and sweet, and the list could go on and on forever...  
  
"You're pretty."  
  
Are her ears deceiving her, or did Harry really just say that? She looks over at him, and he is still gazing blankly into the distance, lips parted slightly as he heaves an almost nonexistent sigh. "Huh?"  
  
"I said..." he prepares to repeat, slowly turning his head and angling it ever so slightly as he looks, heavily-lidded, at her, "that you're pretty."  
  
Vaguely, she hears herself laughing nervously, sounding like some sort of idiot. "What makes you say that?"  
  
Harry shrugs, shoulders lifting and falling in a helpless gesture, and somehow, he looks very tired, very sleepy. If this was some sort of fairy tale, he'd reach over and take her hand, and then lean in to tenderly kiss her, and she would fall desperately in love, realize that he only returned her feelings because she reminded him of Melfina, and have to break things off. But it wasn't a fairy tale. And things just weren't going to work like that, as tragically romantic as it was.  
  
Instead, he puts his hand on her knee, forcing her to gulp down a lump in her throat as her emotions, which are already pretty haywire, surge. She likes the feeling of him innocently touching her, but she doesn't like the words that leave his mouth. "You should probably go now. You're family will be missing you."  
  
She doesn't want it to end like this. She doesn't want this to be the last time she ever sees him. And she says so. "I don't want to go. I'd like to talk to you some more."  
  
"You do?" His voice, that lovely, soft instrument that it is, sounds almost...hopeful, surprised... "I - I thought I was probably boring you."  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Well, either way...it's not right for us to be talking like this. Gene would be upset, and he is your father. You must respect him. Besides, I have to catch up with Angelo and at least try to reconcile..." His tone falters. "I am...fairly sure we'll meet again."  
  
The smile she flashes him is brilliant, radiant almost, and he smiles back. Mikazuki really is a sweet girl, and he finds her very charming. It almost makes him wonder why she'd even bother trying to befriend him.  
  
She wants to kiss him. It's just something that would make her feel more like he's going to come back, that he will see her again. On impulse, she leans over, very slowly to make sure this is something he won't object to, and watches as his eyes dilate in something akin to shock, nervousness, and then disbelief. Nonetheless, he hesitantly tips his chin up, for she is on her knees and slightly taller than him in his reclined position, and lets his eyelids slide halfway shut.  
  
A soft pressure on his shoulder and he registers it as her hand. The tips of their noses touch gently and his eyes flick over in the direction of the small palm curved over his upper arm in something that resembles panic now. The surreal moment is broken for him. He breaths out harshly, but cannot speak. His mouth is too dry. What is she doing? This is wrong...  
  
By now, Mikazuki's courage has built itself up so it feels indomitable, and she tilts her head, using as little experience as she has to tenderly press her lips to his, which she immediately notices the feel of. Velvety and warm, almost, full and soft. However, for what seems eternity, they don't move. She feels like a statue, just sitting there on her knees, one hand on his shoulder, her neck angled as she remains frozen with her mouth just barely touching his. Her blue eyes, stare into his wide, violet ones, and she feels as if she is drowning in an amethyst sea. Then, her eyelashes droop down to her tan cheeks and the anxious moment is shattered as his bottom lip juts out ever so slightly and he pushes back.  
  
Her body goes numb in surprise at the feeling, and she feels her knees quaking as she feels that she might not be able to remain in her kneeling position much more. The slightest shift he makes away from her, and she'll crumble helplessly to the ground.  
  
Harry draws away slightly, as if he is going to break the kiss, but then changes his mind halfway and comes back, turning his head at a more comfortable angle. It's funny how he hasn't really changed positions, one long leg stretched out before him and the other drawn in slightly, an arm over it while the other hand rests on the ground. Because his shoulder moved, the one she had been grasping, knocking her off balance, she now places her hand flat against his chest, which keeps a bit more distance between them, but gives them a more familiar, comfortable feeling anyway.  
  
A kiss is a strange thing, she realizes, and it can be more complicated than first conceived. A slight groan rumbles in his chest, and she feels the vibrations beneath her hand. It sort of....scares her. His mouth parts again, and he draws her lower lip between his own, sucking on it slightly and dragging it after him as he pulls away at a painstakingly slow pace. And then he looks at her, seemingly horrified.  
  
Why does he look so scared? So regretful? It makes her feel sick to her stomach. He didn't like it... He doesn't like her... What was she thinking?! How could she have been so stupid?! Tears well up in her eyes. She just made a complete fool of herself.  
  
If this was a fairy tale, Harry would reassure her and tell her that he loves her.  
  
"Mikazuki...what have you...what have we done? This...this is wrong. I - I need to go."  
  
This isn't a fairy tale.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Ok, I haven't worked on this story for a long time!!! I think my brain just kicked into the gear recently... Also, I was discouraged by the lack of creativity I was having. Anyhow, here I go - no longer neglecting this poor story. Review and tell me what you think.  
  
Shangri-La 


End file.
